


SOUR GUMMY GETS FUCKED

by Madeline69



Category: Crow Cillers (Cartoon), Sour Gummy (Fictional Musicians), Um Jammer Lammy
Genre: Anal Sex, Candy Gore, Collars, Electricity Play, Electrocution, Erotic Electrostimulation, Erotic cannibalism, F/F, Foot Fetish, Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Master/Pet, Multi, Oral Sex, Puppy Play, Rough Sex, Sadism, Trans Female Character, erotic amputation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madeline69/pseuds/Madeline69
Summary: You find two hot girls in the woods. They are fucking and it looks great. You ask to join and they say yes, obviously.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue:**

You’re no stranger to having the cops show up at your door, you’ve even memorized the specific pattern the noise complaint asshole uses to let you know it’s time to go to bed. Tonight is different though, tonights knock is aggressive, hurried, and accompanied with a shout.

“PCPD, open up!” You wander lazily to the door in your pajamas, flipping lights on as you go. The knock comes again, harder and louder this time. “This is the poli-” you interrupt the cop with the sound of the chain lock ‘thunk’-ing as it goes taught..

“Listen man, I’ve been in bed for an hour, there’s no w-" 

“Your neighbor says she saw a dead body in the property behind your house. How do you explain that.” Your blood runs cold. You have weed in this house. They are definitely going to want to search your house. Holy fuck. God damn it. You need to respond to them, but you’re a little frozen right now. “Sir?” that’s not right. Should you correct him? Do you want to get shot?

“I don’t know anything about that.” you stammer out.

“I’m sure you don’t sir, but this piece of paper says I get to find out for myself.” He hands you an A4 sheet through the opening.

> CITY OF PUKE CITY - PISS COUNTY
> 
> SEARCH WARRANT
> 
> BASS TERD_____________ is hereby ordered to search 667 INDUSTRY WAY___________ excluding…
> 
>   ( ) The surrounding property
> 
>   ( ) The business located thereon
> 
>   (x) The personal residence of any person(s) living on the aforementioned property
> 
> ...unless there is evidence of immediate danger to person or property.
> 
> Bla Bla Bla whatever… Cop babble designed specifically to be unreadable to any human being who isn’t a level 7 fascist.
> 
> The point now is that you have an out though. You and your weed filled personal residence are safe.  
  
---  
  
  
“Okay yeah for sure. There’s a way around back to your left there.”

“I’d like to start by searching this warehouse.”

“This is my personal residence. Your warrant says you can’t look in here.” Bass snatches the sheet back from you.

“You’re not supposed to read that part. I could arrest you just for reading that part.” He’s clearly bluffing. He knows, you know, and he knows you know.

“Okay sir. There’s stairs to your left that go up and over so you don’t have to cross the train tracks if you just take the corner tight.” You say cockily, completely forgetting about the apparently dead person in your backyard. It’s several hours later when you hear the same knock on your door. You once again drag yourself out of bed and answer it.

“Sir,” Wrong again pig. “after conducting my search I have determined that there was no dead body in your backyard.”

“Thank god for that. Anything else.”

“No sir.” You slam the door in his face and pad softly back to your bedroom. Kicking your slippers off, a question starts to gnaw at you.

“Okay but what was it?” You ask yourself aloud.

 

**Chapter 1: walking through the forest behind your house in the dead of night because what the fuck was it?**

You’re no stranger to the woods at night, sometimes you wander out just beyond the train tracks to come jerk it out here, drop your load on the dewy early morning ground and just move on. It’s also way easier than like… washing your sheets.

You smell the strangers before you see them. At first you assume it's a dead skunk, and that’s what pacified the cop from earlier. As you get closer though you hear talking. Well, not talking, moaning coming from an overturned boxcar from an accident that happened before you moved in. As you start to move towards the boxcar you see something through a hole torn through the metal; a dick - silver in colour with red flecks of blood - fully erect and glistening in the light of a pair of cell-phone flashlights.

“Hey can we take a second.” a voice you recognize vaguely says from inside.

“Yeah sure.” says another. You hear the leaves of late fall crunching as a green butt plops down between you and the dick.

“Oh my god you’re just gonna sit your bare ass on these gross wet leaves?”

“Yeah I guess. I already did it.”

“Alright cool just checking” there’s the sound of a lighter flicking, then a deep inhale and exhale.

“Hey see that piece of thing where the pole gets stuck through the thing?”

“Yeah Gum I see it.” That’s where you recognize these voices from. The members of Sour Gummy are fucking in a rusty old boxcar in your backyard.

“That's what you look like in real life” the first voice - you assume Sour - snorts.

“Alright I think I’m good.”

“For sure?”

“Yeah. Rip my fucking guts out.” Sour purrs. You settle in with your back against the cool metal of the box car, being very careful not to disturb the couple inside as you sit your ass down on these gross wet leaves. You listen as Sour moans softly into the night air. You can’t stop your hand from moving south as Gummy’s low growls perforate you from the other side of the wall.

“I’m going to fucking devour you.” You hear the ground relax as Sour is lifted into the air and slammed into the wall right above you. Your dick hardens its way out through your fly as you hear the air rush from her lungs with a rattle. “Holy shit I’m so sorry was that too hard?”

“No.” Sour croaks. “Do it again.” Another bang shakes your entire world. You are fully jerking off now, you pervert. Another bang and the sound of the metal wall creaking. Another bang and you have to clamp your hand over your mouth. Another bang and the sound of metal tearing itself, and all of a sudden Sour Silver is on top of you. It’s not comfortable or sexy, but her balls are right in your face. You look up and Gummy Green is staring you dead in the face; apparently bewildered by her ability to throw her girlfriend through a wall.

“hhhhhhhhey” You mutter.

“Oh hey.” Sour says, rolling off of you. “Is this your property?”

“I lllllllive here…” you reply.

“Oh word. Sorry we thought this whole area was abandoned.”

“I live… here.”

“In the box car?” Gummy asks,

 

**Chapter 2? I guess. Like Part 2 except how tf is that ^ long enough to be a chapter? (Chapter 2: Never** **_eat_ ** **your hero)**

“Oh you know what it is? We were just fucking and now we’re naked and this is a stranger.”   

“Oh yeah.” Sour looks down at your crotch. You double check and sure enough you’re still coming down from a huge fucking boner. “They seem fine with it though.”

“She.” You mutter.

“Who?”

“I’m she.”

“Oh word us too I think.” Gummy says.

“Yeah us too.” Sour confirms.

“Okay.” Okay. It’s really time for you to start talking like a human, and not some starstruck idiot who just got caught jerking off. “Did y’all wanna come back to my place. I feel like if you keep fucking out here you’re gonna get like… tetanus or something.”

“That depends.” Sour says.

“Yeah… depends…” Gummy repeats.

“Are you inviting us in… or _inviting us in”_ Sour lowers her glasses at you.

“Is it cool if its the second one?” You ask. Sour and Gummy’s eyes meet for a split second before sizing you up.

“I think it’s definitely cool if its the second one.”

 

**Part 3: last night a gummy ate my heart**

Your residence seems to be purpose built for weird gorey sex. It’s so strange. There’s no reason for the building you live in to be this full of weird sex props. The musty warehouse you call home is permeated by the sound of softly rattling chains when even one window or door is open. There’s sex hooks hanging like feet above lovely soft duvets. What’s a sex hook? You already know, but YOU are about to find out. 

“Welcome to the Simpson residence or casa de Simpson as I call it.” (Swartzwelder, 1997) You say gesturing to the whole fucking thing. Your last name is Simpson. Bitch.

“One. Nice reference Homer’s enemy was my favorite episode.” Gummy says

“That counts as in text citation so the joke that was just made is kind of void now.” Sour says.

“Oh for real?” Gummy shrugs. “Number two was this is a cool sex dungeon.”

“Thanks, I live here.” You say

“I think you mentioned that.” Green says. She plants her hand on a pillar behind you, cornering you in the center of the room. “So… You wanna do this?” You’re nervous, but you nod enthusiastically. “Nice.”

Sour puts her hand on the wall on the other side of you - slightly lower than Gummy’s - and begins to lean in towards your neck with her mouth slightly agape. You gasp as you feel her sharp teeth press into the skin; despite appearances, she’s incredibly gentle. It’s Gummy who surprises you as she braces her arm across your chest and pins you to the wall. She leans in and bites your lower lip, dragging it with her teeth and letting go, producing an audible slap. Sour works her way down your body, taking your pajama shorts with her. You blush as your dick springs forward. Gummy runs a hand up your chest, loosening your shirt and ultimately stepping back to let you pull it over your head. She begins to walk away and you’re pinned by Sour as you try to follow.

“Hey none of this is happening for real right?” Gummy says.

“Nope. This is a fanfiction and I’m a worthless audience surrogate.” You say, looking directly into the camera. You hear a chain jangling and it’s dolly rattling as Gummy brings it over to you.

“Do you want to get impaled for real?” Gummy asks, dragging the rough metal across your bare chest. You gulp.

“To be completely real with you… nothing would make me cum harder.” you say. Gummy fist bumps and leads you into the center of the room, using your dick as a leash.

“You will feel a slight pinch.” Gummy says in a kind of silly evil doctor voice as the girls circle around you. Sour takes off her sunglasses and looks you dead in the eyes, her pupils twitching back and forth ever so slightly. She entangles her fingers in your hair and - at the same time as you feel a dull, hot pain in your lower back - pulls your lips to hers and kisses you. The hook feels heavy in your back, like someone hot-glued a 10 pound weight to you. You collapse into Sour’s arms as the hook plunges deeper and deeper, shaking with every breath and finally rocking your head back with cold-hot release as the wrot iron pierces the front of your torso.

“Oh my god that is the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life.” Sour says. You glance down at the red drenched metal and immediately blush, the rush of blood causing more to spurt from the wound. You rumple your hand against your face in an attempt to hide the blush.

“This is all just really cute.” You mutter in a daze.

“Cute is a good word for it.” Gummy says, rounding you.

“I kind of wanted to keep kissing her.” Sour says, looking up at you.

“There’s a ledge. Over there.” You slur out. Sure enough there is, how convenient. A cement step just high enough for Sour to stand on and get access to all your upper bits. Using the same method as before, (dick leash method) Gummy drags you over to the ledge. The dolly holding the chain to the ceiling rattles in its track, causing the hook in your chest to vibrate, sending hot, searing pain to every part of your body. You let out a weak whimper as the stop sends you swinging ever so slightly back and forth.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone with a hook through their chest.” Sour says, climbing the step and meeting your gaze.

“I was trying to be polite.” You mumble. Sour and Gummy both laugh.

“I think…” Sour says, leaning one arm on your shoulder and pushing you further down on the hook. “...we might be past polite, and I’d really like to hear you scream.” She presses down hard on you, causing your flesh to tear around the hook and sending a spike of pain from your lower chest up into your throat where it manifests itself as a ghastly, very horny wail.

“Good girl.” Sour says, running a finger through the blood drenching your torso and drawing a little heart on your cheek. Below, Gummy starts stroking your cock, twisting her hand around the head and rocking you back and forth on your perch. Each stroke is accompanied by a wave of pleasure, and each swing an extra twinge of pain. She pulls her hand all the way back to the base of your dick, teasing the head lightly with her tongue. She recoils.

“Hey, have you tasted this chick’s blood yet?” She asks, looking up at her girlfriend.

“No? I was building to that.” Sour responds.

“It tastes like watermelon Jolly Ranchers.” Sour says.

“Oh no fucking way.” Sour says, incredulous as she licks a streak of blood from your breast. “Oh no fucking way.” she repeats. Gummy takes your whole dick into her mouth in an instant (waoh head kween ahhaaaa) you feel your dick touch the back of her throat as she runs her hands up your back.

This whole time Sour has been going to town on your neck. You start to feel your breath rattling in your throat as the tiniest bit of blood seeps in and begins to drown you.

Gummy runs her lips up and down your dick, pausing only briefly to breathe once in a while, one hand scratching your lower back to pieces while the other digs into your soft butt meat.

“Babe holy fuck I can see her little heart.” Sour says. Immediately distracted from what might be the best blowjob of your life, Gummy climbs up on the ledge to look, almost knocking sour over in the process. “See look, right through there.” Sour points like someone who just saw a human heart in a piece of coral at the aquarium.

“Holy fuck.” Gummy swings herself around to try and get a better look and in the process knocks Sour off the ledge. Here’s something you’re not gonna believe, and don’t believe, because this is present tense: Sour falls onto a hook and ends up, like you, skewered and suspended a few feet in the air.

“Holy fuck.” Gummy says again, giggling softly. She abandons you for a moment to drag Sour over, and the two of you are stuck chest to chest, dick to dick, with almost no agency over your own movement. You realize - suddenly unable to focus on anything but your dick - that Sour’s dick is slightly smaller than yours.

“Haha little dick bitch.” You giggle out, delirious from the amount of blood you’ve lost. Sour blushes. seeing her normally stoic face rumple with embarrassment sends a flutter through your heart.

“Look at the two of you!” Gummy exclaims. You look down to see her pressing her face up against both of your dicks, letting your blood mix and drip down her chin. Sour begins to thrust her hips, rubbing the head of her dick up and down your shaft and letting out little sighs with each stroke. Seeing this, gummy wraps her hand around both of your dicks and starts to jerk off simultaneously.

Sour falls forward slightly and her forehead meets yours. Watching her eyes lazily flit across your body, taking you in from what must be the most unflattering angle makes you blush. At least you feel like you're blushing, there's probably not enough blood in you to turn your face red.

For the first time you're actually taking in the person in front of you. Her ruined underwear dangles from one leg. You can see her bone in places through her skin, but compared to what you could see on Google images, Sour is a lot softer and less boney than you expected.

Your visual exploration takes you over to Gummy, who has somehow paused long enough to get completely naked. She's supple and soft like what you might imagine old-timey royalty to be built like. From this angle she almost looks like Venus of Willendorf. You nudge your foot against her stomach and caress the silky skin. It feels like if your favorite couch had one wish and wished to become human. You kinda wish you could get a better look at her, but her wide eyes and mischievous smile is enough to satiate you for now.

“Hey check this out.” Gummy says. She opens her mouth as wide as it'll go and puts both of your dicks in her mouth. The feeling of closeness with sour is punctuated with the harsh abrasion of Gummy’s teeth. You - in spite of yourself - begin thrusting up into her mouth. Sour follows suit and the two of you work out a rhythm so you're up when she's down and you're down when she's up. Gummy tries in vain to close her lips around the mess she's made for herself and failing that, runs her tongue around the heads of your dicks in a figure eight motion. You look down and meet her gaze. There's a fire in her eyes.

You start to feel a buildup of energy at the base of your shaft. Just barely mustering up enough cohesive thought, you mutter: “I'm gonna…” Gummy pulls back off of you while continuing to jerk sour off.

“Not yet.” she teases. She drops the chain slightly so your toes are just barely touching the ground and pulls the hook out of your back with a ‘schlorp.’ You collapse to your knees, coming face to face with Sour’s dick. Letting your body move on it's own you rest your head on her pelvis, just barely letting your nose tease her quivering member.

Your eyes refocus on Gummy, who's standing in front of you. Looking up at her is incredible. She has these curves that seem to go on forever like a piece of art. Naturally, your eyes land on her dick, and it is huge; two coke cans stacked on top of each other huge.

“Come over here and fuck my ass with that.” You say, pulling a big ol’ bottle of lube out of hammerspace.

“Abso-” Gummy pauses. “-lutely.” She takes the lube from your hand, curtsying slightly. She lifts you up by your hips, causing you to fall forward and use Sour’s hook for support. You feel the cold lube drip its way down over your butthole and down your leg. You feel Gummy’s fingers grab the drop before it hits the floor and drag it back up the inside of your leg, sending a shiver up your spine. She starts with a finger, then two, then three, very slowly prepping you. Each tiny movement sends waves of tingles through your body.

You brace yourself as you feel her rest her dick on the small of your back. She drags it back slowly, then gently sticks the head in with a pop. She’s so fucking huge. Your legs buckle and you put all of your weight on Sour’s hook, dragging her down so that her foot is just about on the level with your dick.

“You okay?” Gummy asks. You nod. She begins to press deeper and deeper into your ass, holding onto what’s left of your spine through the massive gaping hole in your new, redesigned ‘open concept’ chest. You feel the front of her pelvis gently bump up against your butt and her grip around your waste and spine tightness. She pulls out quicker than she came in, slowly ramping up in speed and sending shivers of pleasure through what’s left of your mangled body.

Eager for something for your mouth to do, you lean forward and start sucking Sour’s dick. Despite its relatively small size it’s still a mouth full. She (or maybe her blood) tastes like fizzy cola belts. You press yourself down as far as you can go, breathing through the hole she punched in your neck and looking up at her. She has her head flung back in pure ecstasy.

Sour puts her foot forward and curls her toes around your dick, stroking in time with with Gummy’s thrusts. If they didn’t want you to cum this was not the way to make it happen. You lean back off of Sour for a moment.

“I- I- I-” You stammer out, struggling to finish the thought before Sour pushes you back down onto her.

//Okay so they;re all about to cum and I want to remind you that Sour and Gummy were fucking before this. Like they were already warmed up. This isn’t unrealistic. Also Your ass game is bomb as hell so…… believe in yourself.

Sour lets out a wail as your mouth is spontaneously filled with her soda-flavored spunk. You feel it shoot down your throat and dribble out of your improvised tracheostomy. Gummy cums right after in a geyser that might ignore your lack of a uterus and impregnate you anyway. Gummy cums so much you feel like it might be going through all of your insides and coming out through your throat. In reality though it’s only enough to dribble out from the bottom of your wound. You reach down with a finger and take up a small glob to taste.

“Hm. That just tastes like cum.” You say in a universe where regular cum tastes like berry flavored skittles. The three of you collapse onto the duvet covered floor, Sour flinging herself off the hook with reckless abandon. You curl up in each others arms as your wounds miraculously start to heal themselves. You look over and the same is happening to Sour. Blood pools around the two of you as you settle in for a nice little snuggle.

**CHECK BOOKSTORES NEXT SUMMER FOR**

**SOUR GUMMY GETS FUCKED 2: ESCAPE TO AFRICA.**

 

 

Works Cited

 

Swartzwelder, J. (Writer). (1997, May 4). Homer's Enemy [Television series episode]. In The Simpsons. Springfield: Fox.


	2. Escape to Africa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sour gets even. You get the hell out of dodge.

**Prologue:**

 

“You’re sure this is the place?” You ask Sour, pulling a balaclava down over your face.

 

“Yeah I’m sure. That’s his car in the driveway. I told you you don’t have to do this though.” She says, gripping your shoulder firmly.

 

“Oh, I’m not. You’re coming with me remember? We talked about this.” You say, putting your hand on hers.

 

“Yeah but I can kill him myself it’s not a big deal.” Sour says.

 

“If you two don’t quit debating and get out of this car nobody is going to get to kill anyone.” Gummy says through the window behind Sour, giving her a start.

 

“Alright,” you say, “let’s go.” The both of you climb down from a borrowed (read: stolen) SUV and grab guns from the back. Sour picks up a small pistol, you scoff and grab the biggest gun in there. It’s a dick joke. Remember the last one? Sour has a small dick and you have a big one. Anyway. Shotgun for you, pistol for Sour, Gummy I think has a knife or something. That’s not important.

 

You cross the still steaming pavement as the last hint of sunset drops over the Comedown City skyline. You came a long way to kill this motherfucker and you’re not backing down now. Gummy gets there first, shimmying her knife into the doorframe and popping it open easily. A chain lock goes taught in the frame and is quickly snipped by Sour. You can hear a dog barking, which is weird, because you’re animal people, and so is the dog. Check my notes for a theory on that. The dog skids around the corner into the front foyer. You see the aggression drain from his body as he sees Sour and happily trots up to her.

 

“Hey pup,” she coos “Mama’s home. You remember me?” She pets the dog while you and Gummy cross the threshold. The house is quiet and as you enter the living room you see a body sprawled out on the couch. He’s every bit as disgusting as Sour made him out to be. You quickly cross the room, pulling him off the couch and binding him in a kneeling position before he has time to wake up.

 

“What’s all this then?” He says, a weirdly unexpected cockney accent tinging his voice. He looks around the room and locks eyes with Gummy, who is beckoning Sour inside.

 

“We can bring the dog with us. He’s coming around.” She says.

 

“Oi, I know you. You’re from that band █████ started after he left me. You’re a cunt mate.” The disgusting bastard says.

 

“No actually,” Sour says, rounding the corner, her dark sweater covered in dog hair, “You’re a cunt ‘mate.’”

 

“█████! It’s good to see you you cheeky cunt. Is this some sort of bondage thing? I’ll be honest jumping into things without asking was more my style if you know what I mean.” He winks at her. You throw up in your balaclava.

 

“We’re actually here to kill you.” Sour says bluntly.

 

“Aw what, ‘cus I never paid you? I said you would get paid mate I just had to get the money in.” Bastard says.

 

“I’m sure.” Sour crosses the room to stand directly in front of him. The ping of two dulled gunshots echo through the room as Sour - with surprisingly impeccable aim - orchiectomies Bastard. He lets out a scream and falls to the side. You grab him by the hair and sit him upright again.

 

“Listen man, there’s money in my safe. You can have it. There’s gotta be near half a million dollars in there.”

 

“Combination?” Sour asks, monotonous.

 

“It’s 40 left, 30 right, 20 left.” He says. He looks up at you with genuine fear in his eyes. You can’t help but grin. “Is it bad? I feel like that hit me right in the balls.” he says.

 

“You should trust that feeling. I’m going to go check that, don’t kill him while I’m gone.” You kick the spot where his balls used to be on your way out of the room. “Oh. where is it?” Bastard is incoherent at this point.

 

“It’s in the bathroom under the sink. The door we walked past on our way in.” Sour says. Sure enough, there it is. It looks cheap. You enter the combination and the safe is almost too eager to pop open. Cash spills out over you. You throw it all into a reusable shopping bag you brought along for grocery shopping. You go back into the living room where Sour’s balaclava lies on the floor. You see tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

“Sour.” Your voice has some bite to it. “You said this dude has security cameras.”

 

“I don’t care. I want this fucker to see my face when he dies.” She levels her gun at his forehead, hesitates for a second, then drops it. She hangs her head for a moment as Gummy approaches from behind to rub her girlfriends back. “It’s… not big enough.” Sour says meekly.

 

“You want mine?” You offer.

 

“Yeah.” She sniffles. “I think I would really like that.” You hand it over and Sour once again levels her shot at Bastards head.

 

“Hey listen. I’m so-” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before his head explodes, painting the room red.

 

“Well… we’re caught on camera.” You say after a significant amount of time passes. “What do we do now?”

 

“I dunno.” Gummy says, shedding her balaclava. “Escape to africa?”

 

Blue Monday by New Order begins to play as the opening credits roll

* * *

  


* * *

 

“Well that was gratuitous and mastrabatory.” You say, looking at the credits.

 

“What was that?” Sour asks from the plane’s cockpit.

 

“Nothing, just doing like a deadpool thing.” You say, plopping yourself down in the familiar seat of your personal cargo plane. “It’s super convenient that you know how to fly a plane Sour.” You comment.

 

“Yeah I didn’t know I could until today, almost as convenient as you owning and somehow storing an enormous cargo plane in your warehouse in downtown Puke City.”

 

“Yeah, almost as convenient as my ability to have it delivered to Comedown City, which the author was using as a surrogate for Miami, because she had just played Hotline Miami and thought that might be a cool place to set this.”

 

“Yeah, almost as convenient as-” Gummy interrupts both of you.

 

“Hey stop it.” She says, bapping you on the back of the head. “You guys don’t even need to be up here, this plane has auto-pilot.”

 

“What else would we be doing though?” You ask, looking at the airplane GPS, which reads: “Africa is so fucking far away.” Gummy wraps her arms around both of your shoulders and pulling you in together.

 

“Wanna join the mile high club?” She purrs. You grin from ear to ear. You knew it was a good idea to keep all of your sex toys in your emergency cargo plane.

 

“Absolutely.” You and Sour say in unison. You take a second to lock eyes and grin mischievously at each other before turning on the auto-pilot and exiting the cockpit. You glance around the cavernous cargo hold and Gummy is nowhere to be found.

 

“There’s so much weird sex shit in here.” you hear her voice from below deck.

 

“Anything you can find on this plane I am absolutely down for.” Sour is going through a first aid kit attached to the wall in your periphery. Seeing as you never need to actually perform first aid on yourself, you converted it into a quick access bin for some staple toys.

 

“What about this one?” Sour asks, zapping you with a cattle prod. You make a mental note to store it on a lower setting next time you put it away as a buzzing wave of electricity rockets through your body, making the tips of your finger tips feel as though they’re vibrating. Your knees buckle slightly and you fall backwards into the thankfully shut cockpit door.

“Yeah. That’s great.” you stammer out.

 

“I’ve never tried this stuff before.” Sour says. Gummy’s head and torso pop out of a hatch to the lower deck.

 

“Here try it on me.” Gummy says, reaching her arm up to be zapped. There’s a pop and a flash as the prod fires but overall Gummy seems nonplussed. “I barely felt that. Try it again.” Sour complies, Gummy once again barely reacts. She shrugs and begins to climb back down into the hold, but sour stops her.

 

“Hold on do me.” She says, extending the handle towards Gummy.

 

“Okay.” Gummy grabs the handle and shocks Sour on the shin.

 

“Fuck.” She shouts, jumping away. “Okay. Keep that end away from me.”

 

“Noted.” Gummy says, handing the prod back to Sour. “You guys get started without me I want to keep exploring this fucking smorgasbord of sex objects.”

 

“Sounds good.” You say as Gummy ducks back below deck. Sour seems to take note of your raging hardon as it pokes through the bottom of your flight suit zipper. She pokes the tip with her cattle prod, causing you to jump and let out a sharp yelp. The shoulders of your flight suit fall down, revealing the blood coated tank top you didn’t have time to change out of.

 

“Oh my god that is the cutest shit I have ever seen.” She reaches over and shocks you again, the shoulders of the flight suit falling around your waist just far enough to reveal some of your ass. “You’re okay with that right?”

 

“That’s what it’s there for.” You sigh, shivering slightly.

 

“Good girl.” She says. You blush. “Strip for me.” You bite your lip and steel your nerve, zipping up the front of the flight suit and hiding your cock from view.

 

“You gonna make me?” You tease. Sour reaches around your back and shocks the small of your back, causing you to jump within arms reach of her standing straight up. She grabs the neck of your shirt and presses the prod into your stomach, just above your belly-button, her finger hovering over the trigger.

 

“What was that?” Sour asks.

 

“I said, are you going to ma--” You don’t get a change to finish your sentence before Sour leans on the trigger, sending crackling waves of electricity through your body. You fall to your knees and look up at her toothy grin. God she’s hot. You take a second to appreciate her before standing and - embarrassed - drop the rest of your flight suit, your underwear, and reveling in the crackles of the partially dried blood as you strip off your undershirt. Sour leans forward, licking the dried blood off your chest. She reaches around your back and shocks your ass.

 

“Get over here.” She says. You scooch slightly closer. She takes matters into her own hands, dragging you so close that your noses are practically touching. You watch her eyes flick over yours before she closes the gap and kisses you. Here usual cola flavored mouth taste is tinged with a smokey whiskey flavor from the blood. You can’t help but think about that bastard, burning in hell, while you fall deeper and deeper in love with Sour Gummy.

 

Gummy clambers up out of the hold with arms full of various pink and purple implements.

 

“She’s decided to be bratty today.” Sour calls over her shoulder.

 

“Nuh uh.” You tease.

 

“Oh good I found the perfect thing for that.” Gummy says. She drops everything to the floor (something glass shatters) and tosses what looks like a sparkling chrome chain through the air. Sour catches it and you recognize what it is; a pinch collar. Your eyes go wide.

 

“Oh yeah.” You and Sour say in unison. You wince as the metal barbs, ice cold from their time in the un-heated part of the plane, rest themselves against your skin. A chill runs down your spine as Gummy sidles up next to Sour and hooks her finger through the pull loop.

 

“Kneel.” She says, doing her best impression of an actual dominatrix. It’s cute. You comply, reveling in the feeling of the metal barbs straining against the back of your neck. You can’t help but wriggle slightly as you feel a warm drop of blood wind its way down between your shoulder blades. You couldn’t look away if you wanted to; your neck is locked in place for fear of tearing itself open. “Holy shit that’s a good look.” Gummy says, immediately breaking character. Sour gets a devilish look in her eyes as she worms the cattle prod up through the pull loop. You struggle to pull away, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from jumping and completely destroying your throat if she decided to shock you.

 

“Aw look at her.” Sour coos as the barbs dig deeper into your throat. You try to turn away to hide the rising blush, but end up slashing up the back of your neck. The draglines feel like rug burns that suddenly occupy your whole world. You hear Sour say something, but you’re too focused on the pain in your neck to make out what. It hits you at the same time as a shock. You yank your head back as each of the collars barbs one by one pops themselves into your neck. You feel the familiar sensation of something sharp breaching your windpipe.

 

“I said.” Sour says, dragging your chin back up and towards her, ignoring your groans as the dull sides of the barbs push their way through your thick flesh. “Don’t look away from me.” You nod in response. You realize your eyes are watering as Gummy wipes a tear from your cheek. Gummy kneels in front of you and drags a knife across your stomach. You so desperately want to look but… well y'know how earlier I said your neck was locked in place? Now it’s really like that. Before it was psychologically locked in place. Now it’s like… Saw 3D locked in place.

 

“Wanna…” Gummy pauses for a moment. “Cut yourself open for me?” You feel your hands shaking against your knees. Your face rumples into a grin as you struggle to meet her eyes with your chin tilted so high.

 

“I would prefer… I think it would be better if you did it.” You say.

 

“Ask nicely.” Gummy says.

 

“Please cut me open Gummy Green.” You feel the tip of the knife pause at the bottom of your chest, feel your heart kick against your chest as the point digs into your skin. You can’t help but let out a sort of half scream half yelp as it plunges into your chest, biting on your ribs and puncturing your lungs. You hear your chest gurgle as blood squirts out from between your lips. Sour takes the opportunity, posing her dick on your bottom lip.

 

Gummy begins dragging the knife down your abdomen. Your breathing gets heavy and leighbored as more and more of your entrails spill out of what you can only imagine looks like a grotesque fursuit zipper. You can’t help but vocalize with every breath, a wordless ‘ah’ through the dick that’s taking up more and more of your mouth. I would describe the sensation of sucking dick, but I did it in the last one and also… you have bigger things to worry about.

 

In fact maybe you’re not sucking Sour’s dick. That’s too much to keep track of. Sour gets a sudden wave of dysphoria and decides to go smoke it off. It’s just you and Gummy now, and Gummy has an idea. She pulls your small intestine up through the loop of the collar. You feel like a complete mess of a thing. You picture yourself briefly: indistinguishable from a dog that was better off road-killed and… wow that’s good.

 

“C’mere girl.” Gummy calls, dragging you by your new leash. You comply, following her around the room, each fall of your hands and knees shooting waves of hot-then-cold pain up through your spine. “Hey… can we fuck in the cockpit?” Gummy asks. Sour perks up from her position on the couch.

 

“Fuck can you guys save that one? I wanna fuck in the cockpit.” Sour asks.

 

“We can do it more than once.” You manage to slur out between coughing up blood. Sour seems contented with this and goes back to her weed as Gummy practically drags you into the cockpit. You receive a completely different kind of electric shock as she throws you into the control panel, severely damaging it.

 

“Oh shit. Is that bad?” Gummy asks. You take stock of the controls. The auto-pilot is still on, which is good, but everything else is kinda fucked.

 

“It should be fine.” You say, lying through your teeth. She seems satisfied by this, lifting you up by the inside of your knees and, just like last time, preps you starting with a finger, then 3. “You’re very ritualistic about anal huh?” you comment, your head rolling back.

 

“I dunno. Having a routine is nice.” Gummy says. You can’t help but agree as she slips in gently, sending a chill wave through your body and out to the tips of your fingers. You get this feeling that I know how to describe in my head but not on paper so bear with me. You know when you select something in photoshop and you get the dotted line circling around the area you selected? It’s like that at the edge of your wound. Every thrust makes you feel like the pain in your chest is out of synch with the rest of your body. Like when you move a glow stick really fast but… the glow is your chest pain and you’re the glow stick and also its way slower than that. Your vision starts to go blurry. You wonder if this is the end. I mean you know it’s not, because you can’t die so… whatever.

 

“You okay?” Gummy asks, apparently taking note of your listless state and sitting you upright via your collar.

 

“I’m good.” You say, straining to focus and bring your brain back down to what's happening now. You realize you’re gonna cum. Then you do. Then Gummy does. You tip your head forward just far enough to watch the pale white geiser squirt up into your chest cavity. Your vision glazes over for a moment as your head rolls off your shoulders and thunks against the floor.

 

You watch Sour enter the cockpit chewing on a croissant. You forgot about the supply of baked goods you keep on board until this exact moment.

 

“Wow. Looks like this really is a cockpit now.” She says, eyeing your crotches over the top rip of her sunglasses and nudging your head with her foot. You and Gummy laugh. Well you try to laugh but google says you need lungs to laugh, and you’re just a head at the moment. You pick up your head and put it back on your body. “Oh also we’re being boarded. Someone is like trying to cut the cargo hatch off of the back of this plane.

 

“Oh fuck no way.” You say, clambering around Gummy and going back into the cargo hold. Sure enough sparks are flying from the underside of the back door. With the sound of rending metal, the door flies off revealing three men, dressed in black swat gear. The center one steps forward and removes his mask. It’s the cop from the first one.

 

“I’m back. You tried to kill me but now I’m back.” He growls.

 

“What the fuck? No I didn’t. You gave me a search warrant that was bogus and I turned you away.” You reply, electing to ignore how loud the open back of an airplane would be.

“Yeah, but it seems cooler if I put all this effort in as a revenge story.” He says.

 

“Well congrats. You made it onto my weird sex plane, now what’s the rest of your plan?” You say.

 

“Crashing this plane.” You kick yourself for setting that up so perfectly. Your mind races for a way to undermine that shitty reference.

 

“Nice Dark Knight reference loser. Is that your favo-” He cuts you off

 

“With no survivors.” It occurs to you in this moment that this motherfucker doesn’t know that the three of you can’t be killed. It also occurs to you that this cop is so power made his last line before killing three basically defenceless woman is a reference to the dark knight rises. You wonder if this cop sees himself as Bane or as a separate entity entirely. You start thinking about your list of friends in parts of Africa, last you looked you were somewhere over Egypt, which is incredibly convenient because you know a friend who has an apartment in Dubai. It would take less than a week to drive from wherever you land in Egypt to Dubai. You wonder if your dune buggy (also in this convenient sex plane.) You think of all of this in the time it takes for an improvised explosive device to hit the floor. You black out.

* * *

 

When you come to you feel as though you’ve eaten a mouthful of sand. Your stomach has healed over, and your wounds from the recent plane crash have already begun to mend themselves. You wince as one of your legs sets itself back into place with a snap. You look around and see Sour and Gummy already up and trying to climb out of the back of the plane.

 

“Hey.” You call over to them. “There's just a door. You don’t have to climb.”

 

“Oh cool.” Gummy says, sliding back down the slippery floor of the plane’s hold.

 

“It’s also probably better that we stay inside until we can get someone to like… drive us somewhere where we can live. I’m immune to disemboweling and all that but dying of thirst in the desert would still suck a lot.” You elaborate.

 

“I’m pretty sure our rules work like that too.” Gummy says.

 

“So what now?” Sour asks, finally finishing the slow and safe shimmy she did in lew of Gummy’s more dangerous single slide.

 

“Revenge plot?” Gummy suggests.

 

“Oh yeah, for sure, but like right now?” Sour clarifies.

 

“My friend Lammy lives in Dubai.” You say. The members of Sour Gummy look at you blankly.

 

“You mean like Um Jammer Lammy?” Gummy asks you.

 

“Yes.”

 

“The playstation game Um Jammer Lammy.”

 

“Yeah, I’m friends with you, how hard is it to believe I’m friends with Lammy.”

 

“No, what is fucking me up about that is that Um Jammer Lammy, for the playstation, is in this universe. With us.” The plane creaks in the silence that follows this statement.

 

“Tell me one good reason why Um Jammer Lammy can’t exist in this universe.” You snap. It’s been a long day and you really liked this plane.

 

“Go on. After surviving erotic disemboweling twice, a plane crash, and my complete awareness of being a character literally made to surrogate the audience, the fact that all of our blood, cum, and other bodily fluids taste like food, in addition to the entire leap of logic it takes to know that we are animal people and somehow not talk about it. Tell me one good reason right now why Lammy Lamb cannot be in this fanfiction.” You take a deep breath.

 

“Isn’t she a teenager? This is a fundamentally horny world.”

 

“I actually was just thinking the same thing.” Sour chimes in. “I just checked the wiki. She was first released in 1999 and at that point she was like at least 18? She’s like 35 at least now.”

 

“Also we don’t have to have sex with everyone in the fanfiction. This one barely had any sex in it, it was a lot more plot driven.” You say.

 

“We’re just going to not talk about the fact that there is a wiki! Where she is listed as being from a playstation game!” Gummy is hysterical at this point.

 

“I am aware, and that changes nothing, because you are from a comic. I have read Crow Cillers, and I am from a fanfiction that we are literally…” You gesture around to the whole world. “In right now!”

 

“Hey can yall stop being meta so we can move on with the story?” Sour says.

 

“Oh no,” you are raving. “This story is stagnant until Sour can tell me one good reason why Lammy Lamb can’t exist in this universe.”

 

**CHECK BOOKSTORES NEXT SUMMER FOR**

**SOUR GUMMY GETS FUCKED 3: Um Cannibal Lammy**

 


	3. Um Cannibal Lammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After narrowly escaping death, you crash with your buddy Lammy, of 'Um Jammer Lammy' fame. You fuck, and she eats part of your body.

**Prologue:**

 

You’re nervous as the pristine, black marble walled elevator climbs higher and higher into the sky. You haven’t seen Lammy since she dropped out of high school. You look to your left and Sour Gummy are leaning lazily against the wall, sandblasted with their heads together, dozing off after the long drive. You’re perfectly alert as you look to your left. You can make out their reflections, but yours seems somewhat blurry. You can’t make out any of your own features. God your mind must be running wild right now. You look forward again, then up as the bright red number above the door slowly ticks up.

 

75.

 

76.

 

77.

 

A cool relaxed voice comes over the loudspeaker as you hear the shrill shreds of hard rock permeating the thick door. 

 

“Level 77. Penthouse.” You take a deep breath as the door slides open. The room ahead is enormous, cavernous almost. The center of the room is occupied by a conversation pit - something you never thought you would see in real life - with a fish tank below. The left of the space has a kitchen larger than the plane you just crashed where a chef sits scrolling through their phone with headphones on. The other side of the room has enough whiteboards, computer desks and other office accoutrements to run a small company. The back wall is covered with an enormous window looking out over the skyline of Dubai, below it is a dining table, and sitting center of that table is Lammy, chewing with her eyes closed and air-guitaring along with the music.

 

“Miss Lammy.” Someone just outside of the elevator shouts over the music. “Your guests have arrived.” Her eyes pop open and she stops the music on her phone. She clambers over the table, swallowing as she walks towards you, arms outstretched.

 

“So good to see you!” She exclaims through a half mouthful of what smells like lamb. “Come sit we’re having lamb.” She says, confirming your suspicion. “You’ve met the physical manifestation of my anxiety from hell?” A darker clone of Lammy that you hadn’t seen before is sitting at the dining room table at one end, tied up and hacked to pieces.

 

“Is she-” Sour starts.

 

“Don’t worry. Rammy’ll be fine and really…” Lammy stammers. “She kind of loves it. Isn’t that right beautiful?” Rammy nods weakly with a grin.

 

The four of you sit down at the table and are immediately served. Rammy giggles softly from the corner as Gummy eagerly digs into the lamb chops.

 

“Oh my god this is so good.” Gummy says through a mouthful.

 

“So. Revenge plot right?” Lammy asks, the three of you nod. “Of course and I’d be happy to loan you any of my assets but unfortunately things got a little tied up re:” She pauses and looks at Rammy. “Well the best way I can put it is it seems the whole world doesn’t know just how unkillable girls like us are quite yet. I'm under house arrest until I prove some folks are still alive.”

 

“So we’re fucked essentially?” You ask.

 

“Oh no no no, there’s actually a really easy way for you to sort of un-fuck us as it were. There’s a central police database here in Dubai, all you have to do is...” Lammy falters. You notice her right hand idly playing frets on a fork on the table. “You would have to blow it up I think. Break in and blow it up, a good old fashioned heist.” 

 

“That’s not really a heist so much as it’s terrorism I think,” Gummy says.

 

“Is that something you have a problem with?” Lammy asks. The three of you lock eyes for a moment.

 

“Nope.” You say in unison.

 

“Oh good. I was worried there for a second.” Lammy says, pulling a blueprint of the building out from under the table and rolling it out in front of you. The planning takes the three of you deep into the night, Sour and Gummy branch off, getting comfortable in the guest suite, and although Lammy offers to let you sleep in her bed, you opt for the couch instead. You fall asleep watching the Detroit skyline, wondering what things would have been like if Lammy had kept in touch all these years.

  


 

You awake with a start to see Lammy standing over your bed, chewing on the sharp end of a meat cleaver.

 

“Hey.” She says nonchalantly. You jump back, startling her into jumping back. She looks up at you with her big sleepy eyes, you notice a nick in the side of her lip from the cleaver.

 

“Your mouth...” you say, still climbing out of your sleep. She runs her tongue over the cut.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I just…” She trails off. You sit upright and pat the uncomfortably stylish couch next to you.

 

“C’mere. I missed you too Lammy.” The lamb plops herself down and leans into your shoulder.

 

“Sometimes I think about how nice it would have been if you had come with me way back when,” Lammy says. You remember when Milkcan first started touring.

 

“Ah c’mon. I’m worthless. I would have been a fourth wheel.” You say, giving Lammy a playful punch.

 

“There’s such a thing as groupies,” Lammy says. She looks up and your eyes meet. “or you could have been my celebrity wife.” She teases.

 

“I don’t know if celebrity wife is a thing,” you say.

“Portia de Rossi?”

 

“I don’t think Ellen’s wife counts as a celebrity. I also don’t think she exists in this universe.” You say. Lammy shrugs and nuzzles deeper into you.

 

“You could have been a roadie.” She says.

 

“I think,” you lean in and kiss the cut edge of Lammy’s lip. “You just wanted me along as a snack.” You lick the blood from your lips, revelling in the subtle tinge of raspberry flavour. Lammy turns beet red, hiding her face from you. She stands up, seemingly tense from what you can see of her outlined silhouette. The only light in the room is coming from the massive window. She bends over and picks her cleaver up from the floor. She returns to the seat next to you, looks up at you with her big sleepy eyes, and rests the knife’s edge against your throat.

 

“Maybe.” She stutters. You can practically see her steeling herself as she drags the knife up your cheek, back down over your top lip, and hooks it on your bottom lip. You wince as you feel it cut you. Under normal circumstances, you might even flinch, but honestly, you’ve been through way more the past few days. Lammy presses her lips against yours, you feel her tongue just barely brush over the wound before she goes back to hiding her face. “Maybe.” She says again.

 

“How long have you been eating people for Lammy?” You tease, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and pulling her in. “yet you still get flustered when you kiss a girl.”

 

“I would get flustered if I kissed a boy too.” She grumbles. “The two are completely different anyway. A person usually doesn’t even know they’re being eaten.”

 

“Okay. Stop. I don’t actually want to know about like… the people you have killed to eat. That’s weird.” You say.

 

“Is that weird? I only kill like… bad people.”

 

“That makes it less weird.”

 

“Oh okay good.” There’s a period of silence following this. Lammy seems to be compulsively licking her lips. You hear her stomach rumble.

 

“Hungry?” you ask.

 

“I wasn’t until…” She trails off. “Do you think I could…” she trails off again.

 

“Feast of my flesh Lammy Lamb.” You say, pulling your shirt off. Lammy slowly, with shaking hands, pins you down to the couch. She looks you over with expertise, like a butcher eyeing up a prize pig. “Tell me about the first time.” You say, going limp and letting whatever happens happen.

“This guy drugged me and tried to take me back to his place. In fact, you remember coach B from high school?” You nod. “That guy. I fucking stabbed him in the eye. I couldn’t figure out what to do with the body, so I just left it for a few days. Then, by some cosmic coincidence, I stumbled onto this article on Vice about this guy who ate people, and read top to bottom a hundred times.”

 

“So you just ate him?”

 

“Yep. The only good pedophile is one salt and peppered, turned once every two minutes to get the good grill marks, and thrown down the hatch.” She says.

 

“That’s hardcore.”

 

“Yeah, and then I found out some girls can’t die and that just opened my whole world up. There was one line from that article that stuck with me:” she says, dropping out of storytelling mode and dragging the knife from your thigh all the way up to your throat. 

 

“What was that?”

 

“The meat tastes more delicate as you move up the body.” She quotes. You laugh at this.

 

“There is no way it said that you dork.” Lammy blushes.

 

“It totally did. I remember it.” She says. “And it's true! I’ve had enough experience to know that it was true. Look.” She cuts a slice off of your thigh, causing an oval of searing pain. She expertly peels the skin off and presents it to you.

 

“I’m not going to eat myself Lammy.” You say. “That’s a hard line for me.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She says, popping the little morsel in her mouth. “See. This is tender. You have nice thighs, but it’s a little bland.”

 

“Thanks.” You deadpan.

 

“What’s really good…” She leans in and bites down on your neck meat, dragging a stringy chunk away, spitting it out, peeling it, and swallowing it. “is this.” you lock eyes with the lamb. You watch your blood cascade down the front of her neck and onto your shirt. You and Lammy both notice your boners at the same time. You grab onto the top of her thighs and lock eyes with her.

 

“Wanna… do something about this?” You ask. Lammy nods and starts grinding against you. “Good girl.” You shiver as tingles shoot through your body. Lammy pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it away. You try to follow it with your eyes but you’re quickly distracted by, well, the topless woman in front of you. Lammy never really seemed to care about grooming; she’s fuzzy and warm beyond the fact that everyone in this universe is animal people. She leans down, her hot breath roaring in your ear as she nibbles on the lobe.

 

“God I am starving,” Lammy says, dropping her knife with a clatter. She bites down, causing you to let out a yelp as the soft tissue of your earlobe is suddenly severed from the rest of your body. After all the disembowelling you’ve been through in the past few days, it’s almost comforting how little this hurts. For once, your focus isn’t so blurred that you forget about the warm blanket of blood that begins to pool around you. You let your eyes - sandblasted as they were by the desert - well up slightly. Lammy flinches as they spill over.

 

“I- Oh my gosh I’m sorry.”

 

“No no, it’s fine.” You say. “This is just kinda nice.”

 

“Oh… wow, that’s cute.” Lammy says, “You sure you’re good?” You nod in response.

 

“What do you say?” You tease, reaching up to gently hold her throat. Lammy opens her mouth to respond, snickers then blushes the dumb joke welling up in her throat.

 

“Rubba dub dub, thanks for the grub. Amen.” You clamp down, holding the bottom of her Adam's apple with your thumb.

 

“You’re not allowed to swallow that unless you thank me nicely.” You growl. Lammy coughs weakly, taking in a short breath before she continues.

 

“Thank you, ma’am.” She stutters. You relax your hand, revelling in the feeling of the chunk of flesh sliding down over your thumb and into her stomach. “Thank you.” She repeats. She takes a moment - still grinding - to pull out her phone.

 

“Music?” You ask.

 

“Just a little something.” She says as the apartment is rocked by a deep, droning bassline. A ragged voice calls out something about silver lights as Lammy, invigorated by the music - grinds right down into your hips. The apartment’s lighting changes to match, framing Lammy in a deep red halo light caught on the ends of her frizzy hair. She begins rocking her hips to the beat, slowly at first, then twice per beat. You scoop the knife up off the floor and deftly slice through the back of her underwear. She has such a cute dick, you think to yourself. It isn’t long before the intense grinding has the two of you slightly out of alignment, where her dick once was you can now feel the fuzzy cheeks that guard her asshole.

 

“Do you have any lube?” You ask, slipping deeper into the crack. She nods, lube just appearing out of nowhere, because although it’s important it’s not fun to write in. She’s just lubed up okay? Sweet. You position the tip of your dick right against her asshole. You begin to jerk her off with your free hand and as her head lulls back you thrust in deep. She lets out a yelp to match yours, stabilizing herself before she begins to bounce. “What do you say?” You ask again, purring slightly.

 

“Thank you for your cock mistress,” Lammy replies between moans, just fucking going for it apparently. You take hold of her hips, taking long hard strokes deep into her ass. She is fucking loving it. She’s got that look people get in their eyes when like… you know when you’re… it’s not ahegao it’s like… slightly more cohesive than ahegao. You know what I mean. Anyway without any word of a warning Lammy cums, shooting you in the face with her semen. Some gets in your mouth, it tastes like strawberry jam. It’s a real shame too because you were right on the edge. By the look in her eyes, Lammy recognizes immediately that she’s in trouble.

 

“Did I say you could cum?” You growl, although you’re usually a sub, you never miss an opportunity to revel in control. Lammy begins to stutter out something of an apology, but you’re already on her. You have her dick gripped in one hand, with an open palm pressed up against the head and running circles around the sensitive skin. Her words are interrupted by the incredibly sexy hitching breath of post-orgasm stimulation. “Did I say you were allowed to cum?” You repeat.

 

“I- No.” She stutters.

 

“No who?” You ask.

 

“No ma’am.” she says, riding out the ‘a’ in ma’am.

 

“And now you think just because you came you can stop riding my cock?” You bet Lammy didn’t even notice that she stopped bouncing, but she quickly rectifies that as best she can with your vice grip still on her dick. Her shutters begin to slow as the last scraps of her orgasm are ruined and drift away. “Look at this.” You say, showing her your hand. “You got your cum all over my hand…” You push her onto her back. “...In my mouth...” you say, spitting it into hers. “...and you didn’t even have the decency to ask nicely.”

 

“I’m sorry, mistress.” She whimpers.

 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” You growl. “You said you were invincible right? Everything is going to grow back?” Lammy nods, cautious. You drag her to the ground by her hair with a thunk, standing up as you do so and steadying the knife in your hand. You take a moment to position the knife right in the middle of her upper arm, positioned to chop it right off if you were so inclined.

 

“Hold that there for me.” Lammy complies, tears welling up in her eyes. “You still into this?”

 

“Yes, absolutely.” She says, gingerly holding the knife exactly where you left it. You cross over to the foyer, grab your boots out of the front hall closet, and walk back.

 

“Hold it steady.” You say. Lammy looks up at you, ready to accept her punishment. With a stomp and a chop, Lammy’s arm is completely off. Three more and she is a weeping, bloody, limbless mess. “Still okay?”

 

“Yes, mistress.” She says between hitching breaths.

 

“Good. One last adjustment. Stick your tongue out.” She obeys, trying in vain to watch as it’s sliced out of her mouth. You hold it briefly before deciding to drop it back in. “A little snack.” You tease. She swallows it in a state of pure ecstasy. You drag her up onto her stumps, jam your cock down her throat. It only takes a few thrusts for you to cum, unable to swallow, Lammy just lets the cum gurgle up her throat and down all over her chest. You pick up her limbless body, drop it back on the couch, and curl up next to it.

 

“Love you Lammy,” you say. She makes a noise that seems like, if she had a tongue - would probably be “I love you too.” The two of you fall asleep like that. It’s adorable.

  
  
  


The next day's heist goes off without a hitch. You’re in the police’s main server farm when a pristine white door catches your attention. You check your watch, two minutes until the bomb goes off. You have time to check this room out. I mean like, how often is it that a room calls out to you like this. Maybe there’s treasure inside, you think as you grasp the handle and feel the latch click open. The door opens silently, no creaking or squeaking, and you’re standing in the center of a blank white room, too pristine to be real. The walls are lined with small television sets. You spin as the door clicks shut behind you, but just as sure as you heard it shut, there was seemingly never any door there.

 

“Never mind that.” My voice says behind you. You spin again, and in a high backed leather, armchair sits some variety of rat, or bat, or possum. Perhaps a combination of all three. “The door will return in good time. It always does.” I elaborate.

 

“In the meantime, I’m sure you have some questions.”

 

Keep your eyes peeled for Sour Gummy Gets Fucked 4: Explanations.

  
  


Works Cited:

**Kosuga, T. (2009, January 01). Who's Hungry? Retrieved from https://www.vice.com/en_ca/article/7bwvvx/whos-hungry-502-v16n1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a tie in to another work called Um Cannibal Lammy which you can find on my profile.


End file.
